


In My Dreams

by alaana_fair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Content, Adult Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Content, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-15
Updated: 2011-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-22 16:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alaana_fair/pseuds/alaana_fair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Hermione Granger comes to Draco's Paris flat to ask for his help, he learns that there are always two sides to a story, that broken hearts can heal, and that sometimes reality is simply a state of mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. Also... I am not a medical professional, and this is _magic_ , so... just keep that in mind! :-D
> 
>  **Author's Notes:** Written for GLOMPFEST on LJ for [this](http://serpentinelion.livejournal.com/274692.html?thread=3842308#t3842308) lovely prompt from Theprimrose. Thanks so much to Sesheta, NurseDarry & Cassie Black for their beta and britbrick help! And to Dysonrules, Oldenuf2nb, Ficreader, Piratesmile, Mijan & Naadi for their brilliance, advice, and cheerleading! I love you guys!!! The title came from [In My Dreams](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jtShSvfg7Sc) by the fabulous James Morrison, whose songs never fail to inspire my H/D muse. :-D

Draco had been expecting the visit for days, but when Granger stepped through the Floo into his Paris flat, he still didn't know what to say. Apparently she didn't either, because it seemed all she could manage was a sad smile. The same smile she'd given him when she'd hugged him goodbye at the Portkey office three years ago. He'd made her promise not to write, and she'd been true to her word until now.

"Thanks for seeing me, Draco. I—" She stumbled over her words, which was so unlike her that Draco couldn't help but cringe. The dark circles under her eyes made her look twice her age. "I wish it were under better circumstances."

Draco simply nodded. There was nothing he could say that would make the conversation any easier. He'd been as shocked as the rest of the world a week ago when he'd read the paper. The attack on Harry had even made the front page of the _Paris Diplomatique_ , which usually didn't concern itself with international news.

"There's nothing I can do." Draco thought it best to be forthright. "I've read his file. The hex scrambled his brain. There's no cure for that." It all came out so business-like, so calm and collected. He should probably be proud of his professionalism. It was a testament to his training that he could talk about Harry as though he were patient X whom he'd never known – never fucked, never been in love with. "I'm sorry."

"You don't mean that."

Draco felt the hair on his neck bristle. They may have come to terms with each other years ago, but she had some audacity to presume she _knew_ him. "What? That I can't help or that I'm sorry?"

"That there's nothing you can do." She stared at him. Her eyes held no accusations, but they were as determined as he'd ever seen them. "Draco, you're—" Her words were cut off by a sob that Draco had known was lingering just beneath the surface. He knew, because he was fighting heaven and earth to keep his own sob in check.

"Granger, sit." Draco strode across the room to the sideboard. So what if it was ten in the morning? He'd need a drink to get through this without losing every shred of dignity he'd managed to keep intact. He poured two glasses of whiskey, downing one before refilling it and handing the other to Granger.

She took it without looking up. "I know he hurt you—"

"One has nothing to do with the other. I took an oath, and I wouldn't break that oath over a lover's quarrel."

When she looked up at him, he knew his bravado wasn't hiding anything. She'd always been too observant for her own good. "You're brilliant, Draco - the best Neurologic Healer in centuries. You know the human mind like the back of your hand. If anyone can help him, you can."

Draco downed his second glass of whiskey, cherishing the way it burned the back of his throat. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't considered the possibility. "With this kind of hex, anything I could try would be strictly experimental. My treatments have only been proven on traumatic brain injuries, but this... this is something entirely different."

"But, Draco—"

"As long as he remains in his current comatose state there's hope that someone might be able to help him eventually, but if I try there's no guarantee I wouldn't make it worse, or possibly even kill him."

"I'll take that risk." She said it far too quickly, as though she'd already weighed all the options. She sighed heavily, reminding Draco of a deflating balloon. "You know this would kill him," she said softly. "Lying in a hospital bed for the rest of his life having people care for him as though he were an infant – feeding him, bathing him – he'd rather be dead."

The words hit Draco like an Aveda Kedavra. Granger was right. Harry would rather be dead, but the thought of that made Draco's chest ache like Granger had just dumped hot coals on it. He leaned his head back against his chair and closed his eyes. He'd thought he'd put Harry out of his mind, that he'd got over the heartbreak of watching him walk away, but he now realised somewhere, deep down where he'd never acknowledge it, there was still hope. The possibility of losing him forever was simply unacceptable.

Draco couldn't voice his thoughts for fear that Granger would understand far more than he wanted, so he simply nodded.

She smiled. Her eternal optimism still astounded him. "If it's any consolation, he's missed you too."

Draco took in a sharp breath and bit his lip to stop himself from saying something he would surely regret. If Harry had missed him, why had he gone three bloody years without so much as an owl? The last words Harry had said to him still haunted him in his dreams. _I love you, Draco. I'll always love you, but we're like oil and water. If we don't stop this now, we'll end up hating each other, and I don't ever want to hate you again._ And then he'd picked up his suitcase and walked out the door of their flat. If he'd looked back, Draco would have argued. Hell, he would have begged. But Harry hadn’t looked back. Draco had applied for a transfer to St Drogo's the next morning. He'd moved to France the next week, leaving their flat exactly as it was when Harry had left. Draco slipped his hand into his trouser pocket and fingered the golden key on his key ring. He'd never taken it off.

~~~

"What does this do, exactly?"

"Granger, I know you're an intellectual woman, but please don't ask me to explain ten years of training in half an hour."

It was almost painful to watch her bite back her questions. The worry was evident in every line of her face. Weasley just looked at him blankly, his eyes hollow and bloodshot. Draco hooked the vial of potion up to the almost invisible tube attached to Harry's arm. If it hadn't been for Harry's sunken cheeks and pale face, Draco would have thought he was simply sleeping. That he'd wake up at any moment and roll onto his side with that crooked, sleepy smile that Draco had once lived for.

"Basically this potion, along with a variation of Legilimency, will allow me to... take a nice little stroll through his mind. If I can sort out which parts have been damaged, I might be able to repair them."

"What will it be like?" Weasley's voice cracked as though he hadn't spoken in days. Draco had never learned to like him, but his loyalty to Harry was without question.

"You're familiar with the term _landmine_?" Weasley nodded and Granger's face drained of what little colour it still had. "I suspect it will be something like that." In actuality, Draco thought it might be much worse. The human mind was a complicated thing and he was terrified of what he might find.

"How long will it take?"

Draco sighed, his patience thinning dangerously. "I've no idea. I've never attempted doing it to anyone with this type of injury, remember?" The last of the potion emptied into Harry's body and Draco turned, pulling a cold grey chair close to Harry's bed. He took a deep breath and sat. "I'm going to have to ask you both to leave now."

"No." Draco didn't look up to see Granger's horrified expression.

"We're not leaving him," Weasley added, his tone less sure than Granger's had been.

He turned to face them, gathering as much professionalism as he could muster. "Then I'm not doing this. I can't risk either of you interrupting my concentration. It could kill us both."

Granger swallowed loudly, the seriousness of what Draco was about to attempt _finally_ sinking into her thick skull. He wasn't exaggerating. If the damage was anything close to what Draco thought it was, there was a good chance neither of them would make it out unscathed.

Thankfully, Weasley had more sense than he appeared to have. He nodded, taking Granger's arm and firmly guiding her from the room.

~~~

Draco took another deep breath and let it out slowly through his nose. Relaxation didn't come as easily as it usually did. He swirled the vial of potion between his fingertips and prepared himself for what he might find. Magic was a funny thing. It ran through every fibre of your body, stemmed from the very DNA that made up who you were. The potion running through Harry's veins would latch onto that magic and the potion in Draco's hand would do the same. It would allow him into Harry's head, but not just that. The potions would meld together and allow his own experiences to interpret Harry's mind. It was always a unique experience. Draco pressed the vial against his lips and tipped his head back, waving his wand in a complicated movement as he said the incantation.

Children's minds, Draco found, were always colourful; full of bright yellows, deep blues, and the sound of music. Adult minds were more complicated, and one never knew how they would manifest themselves. When he opened his eyes, he felt an immediate urge to run. If he'd believed in hell, this was what he imagined it would be like.

Draco ducked as a flash of lightening struck just over his left shoulder. He knew, intellectually, that it wouldn't hurt him – that this was a materialization of Harry's broken mind – but Draco couldn't curb his instinct to shy away. He felt as though he were in a vast, war-torn landscape. Fires raged in the distance and scorched trees sprouted from parched ground. Flashes of lightening constantly lit up the seemingly endless black sky. Most unnerving, though, was the silence. The lightening came without thunder. The fires burned without crackling. The wind blew so hard Draco had to fight to stay upright, but there was no howling. Only silence.

He knew this was just the beginning. Every mind had passageways. Some were stone, some were glass, some were orchards filled with flowering trees. Draco's job was to find the passageway that would lead to the breaks in Harry's mind and fix them. It wouldn't be an easy task. He walked for what seemed like hours, although he knew it hadn't been. The potion would only last for sixty minutes before he'd be catapulted back to his cold chair, staring into the face of the man he didn't know if he could save.

~~~

"Are you all right?"

Draco opened his eyes, the focus coming slowly, and nodded. _Fuck._ This was going to be as difficult as he had feared.

"Are you certain about this, Draco?"

Draco stretched his hands over his head and bent his neck from one side to the other. He was always tense when the potion wore off. "Concerned for my welfare, Healer Aonghus? I'm touched."

The old man chuckled and handed Draco a glass of water. "You were always my best student. If you succeed, I get to take the credit, if you fail..." He smiled down at Draco as though he were looking at his own son.

"I won't fail." Draco glanced to the bed where Harry lay. His peaceful expression gave no indication of the turmoil erupting in his head. Draco bit his bottom lip until his teeth almost punctured the skin. He wouldn't fail. He couldn't. "I'll have a report on your desk by the end of day. I'm going back in tomorrow." Draco looked up at his mentor and friend, certain his determination showed in his eyes. "This could take months, but I won't fail."

~~~

"You're not staying at the Leaky for a month, Draco. It's either this or you stay with us."

The thought of spending a month in Weasley and Granger's spare room with a knotted old mattress didn't appeal to him any more than going back to the Manor had. But this... this he couldn't do.

"No." Draco turned away from the small building with its sharp roofs and large windows that he'd fallen in love with five years ago.

It had taken them months to find a place they both liked. Draco had wanted something spacious, away from prying eyes and nosey neighbours. Harry had wanted a neighbourhood near a park that echoed with the sounds of children's laughter. They'd finally agreed on the tiny Wizarding pocket in Muswell Hill.

Theirs was a two-bedroom flat on the top floor. Harry had insisted that anything larger was a waste of space. Draco would have argued, but it had been magically enlarged to include a dining room, large en-suite bathroom, and. It had a lovely fireplace in their bedroom, which they decided to keep. The sitting room had a bay window on the west side which was changed by magic to face away from the street. Harry used to sit in the window for hours and stare down at the gardens below. For Harry's thirtieth birthday, Draco had expanded the window into a good-sized terrace so Harry would have a better view. "This is the most thoughtful thing anyone's ever done for me," Harry had said when he saw it, his eyes so earnest that Draco had snogged him to within an inch of his life.

Harry had warded the terrace with a wide array of Concealment and Silencing Charms to maintain their privacy and they'd spent hundreds of evenings watching the sun turn the garden into a kaleidoscope of pinks and reds. They had dinner outside in the spring, surrounded by the sounds of birds singing and children playing in the park beyond. They'd made love on that terrace more often than Draco could remember, and on clear nights, they'd remain out there for hours after and simply stare up at the stars.

"Draco." Granger laid a hand on his arm, gently, as though she could hear his heart breaking all over again. "You know this is what Harry would want."

Draco rounded on her, anger and hurt and confusion all rolling together to form a ball of fire in his gut. "I don't care what Harry would want. He left me, remember? I'm not going to—" Draco stopped, his words feeling like knives in his throat. He turned away, not willing to let her see the hurt that still cut him. "I'm not moving back into his flat as though that never happened."

"It's not his flat anymore, Draco. He never went back."

Draco had no idea how to respond to that. Harry was an idiot. He always had been. Draco wanted to ask where he'd moved to, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Just think about it, okay?" She held out a key as though she expected Draco to take it. He thrust his hands in his pockets and glared. "Fine, be stubborn then." She shoved the key back into her purse and huffed. "I swear you and Harry were cut from the same mould."

It almost brought a smile to his face. It felt, just for a moment, like old times. "I'll see you and Weasley at St Mungo's tomorrow."

She gave him a sad smile before Disapparating.

The lilies Harry had planted the summer they'd moved in were blooming along the rock pathway leading to the building's entrance. Why hadn’t Harry sold it if he wasn't living there? It made no sense. Draco fingered the gold key in his pocket, curiosity getting the better of him.

He froze as soon as he'd stepped over the threshold. It was _exactly_ as he'd left it. The scarf Harry had forgotten still hung on the hook by the door, and his Quidditch magazines were still scattered across the coffee table in the living room. The photos Draco had left behind, the ones of the two of them that had been Harry's favourites, still smiled and laughed from the mantelpiece. Draco wasn't sure what to make of it. Either Harry hadn't cared enough to pack them away, or... he hadn't been able to let go.

Draco swallowed the lump forming in his throat and blinked to clear his eyes. His legs carried him without thought to the kitchen. The newspaper he'd been reading the morning he left for Paris was still folded neatly on the table and his teacup was still in the sink. It was as if Harry hadn't set foot in the place for three years, yet there wasn't a speck of dust to be found. He knew he should leave, but he couldn't make himself. It felt like... it felt like he'd just come home from a long day at St Mungo's and that Harry would come bounding through the door like a puppy any moment, his Auror robes cascading behind him the way they always had.

Draco's chest ached like someone had split it open. He closed his eyes and imagined Harry's voice, _I wanted it to be the way you left it when you finally came back,_ and thought about him lying in the stark white hospital bed, probably with no idea of who he was, much less who Draco was. The ache in his chest spread to his head and he finally, _finally_ let his tears fall.

~~~

Time was a funny thing when you were inside someone else's head. Sometimes a minute seemed like days and sometimes an hour passed in mere seconds. You never knew which it would be or how long you had. Luckily, the spell always brought Draco back to the exact moment when he'd left, so the searching of the previous days hadn't had to be repeated. When he finally found the entrance to the passageway he'd been looking for, it was a cave. Somehow, Draco had expected something else – a labyrinth perhaps, or even a cupboard door, but never a cave.

He ducked his head so he could fit into the low entrance and barely managed to squeeze himself into the narrow passage. This was the part where things got tricky. During his studies, Draco had learned everything known about the way the brain worked. He'd also learned the numerous differences between a Muggle brain and a Wizard's brain. Granted, they were the same organ, but Wizards had magic, and magic changed _everything_. It ran in their blood, infused their organs, and wrapped around every nerve ending and blood vessel. But most importantly, at least for Draco's work, it clung to their memories. The potion would allow Draco access to Harry's memories to help him sort out what parts of the brain the hex had damaged. It had been an unexpected windfall during their research, and some memories were easier to interpret than others, but Harry's memories would hopefully become a valuable tool; a roadmap of Harry's mind.

Draco stumbled on what must have been a root growing from the dirt floor. He caught himself before falling, but the moment his palm pressed against the damp wall, he knew it had started.

 _"Mummy."_

 _Lily's eyes lit up and she smiled. "James! Come here. He just said my name!"_

 _James' face appeared almost instantly over the tiny cot. Harry smiled a toothy grin and said it again. "Mummy, mummy, mummy," he garbled._

 _James smiled and brushed a messy curl from his son's eyes. "I suppose dad will have to be your second word then, eh?"_

 _Lily sniggered and turned, kissing James with a smile on her lips._

Draco slumped against the wall and slid down until he sat on the cold ground, his back damp against the wall. "Speech, then," he said into the darkness. He wondered if Harry had even the vaguest recollection of that memory. He vowed to pull it out and put it in a Pensieve for when Harry finally recovered.

~~~

"Yes, the frontal lobe, I'm guessing the left, since it was a memory of his first word. There could be other areas affecting his speech as well; I won't know until I get there."

Healer Aonghus nodded as he read the report. "It's certainly a start, Draco, but... you know the damage was extensive."

Draco looked up from the map he'd been drawing to try to sort out where in Harry's brain he'd been so far. It was speculation at best, but sometimes there were patterns, and if they could find a pattern, it would make things easier.

"We've been through this, Argus. I'm not giving up until he walks out that door on his own two feet."

"I'm just... I need you to be realistic. It's been over a week and this is the first sign of—"

"I'm _being_ realistic." Draco sighed. He'd said it more harshly than he'd meant, but he wasn't giving up on Harry. Not now. He just wasn't.

Argus nodded, obviously understanding . "So, tomorrow?"

"I'll fix it. We'll need to keep him unconscious, though. I don't want him waking up until I know more. Just because he can speak doesn't mean he can understand what he's saying and I won't have him going mad on me."

Argus shot him a sideways smile as if to say, _I'm a Healer, too, idiot. I know this._ but he never said it.

"I'm sorry. I think... I'm just tired. It's been a long day."

"You're pushing yourself too hard. You're the one who placed the limit at three sessions a day remember? I happen to know you were in for four hours yesterday."

"I'm sure you're mistaken." Draco cocked one eyebrow, an unspoken _don't ask questions you don't want the answers to_ in his eyes.

"Go home, Draco. I don't want to see you at St Mungo's before nine o'clock tomorrow morning."

Draco stood, nodding his acquiescence.

He was almost to the door when Argus called out to him. "And Draco?" Draco turned, feeling suddenly exhausted. "Well, done."

~~~

Draco flung himself onto his bed at the Leaky Cauldron and thought about the empty flat in Muswell Hills. Last week when he'd been there, he'd stumbled from the kitchen and collapsed onto the sofa he and Harry had fought over for a week. He'd awoken the next morning with Harry's old Chudley Cannons blanket draped over his feet and a horrible crick in his neck.

He closed his eyes and remembered the last time he and Harry had had sex on that sofa. It had been only a few days before Harry left. They'd fought about something – Draco couldn't recall what; he rarely could afterwards. Harry had snarled something in his face and Draco had grabbed him by the front of his shirt and kissed him hard. That seemed to be how half their fights ended. The other half ended with Harry shoving him against the wall and rutting against him like a horny fifth-year. No wonder Harry had said they were like oil and water. Maybe he'd been right.

~~~

Draco didn't have far to walk before the passageway narrowed to the point where it was impassable.

Disruptions to neuronal pathways always manifested in one of two ways, depending on the type and severity of the disruption. Either there was a blockage in the path or there was break of some sort. The blockages were usually rather simple to clear. The breaks, on the other hand, were a sign of severe damage and were much more difficult. It required an inordinate amount of magic to rebuild them.

Judging by the instability of the obstruction in front of him, he thought it likely a minor one. He reached out and touched the pile of stones that blocked his way, closing his eyes and focusing all his energy on moving them. A surge of heat ran through his body and the rocks crumbled and sprinkled to the ground like cascading marbles.

It was a testament to the power of the unconscious mind that in here, he'd never once needed his wand.

~~~

The door opened and Granger walked through looking almost human for the first time since Draco had returned. "How's he doing?"

Draco leaned back in the hard chair and crossed his legs. He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there watching Harry sleep. "Perfectly well, obviously. Comatose seems to suit him."

Granger ignored the snip and brushed her hand across Harry's forehead, smoothing away his messy fringe. Draco had an almost uncontrollable urge to snatch her hand away.

"And how are you?" she asked as she turned back to Draco, her eyes eerily perceptive.

"I've spent the last two weeks traversing the desolate, shattered mind of my ex-lover. I've never felt better. Thanks for asking."

She sighed heavily and pulled up the only other chair in the room. "Come have dinner with us tonight. You must be tired of Tom's greasy pies by now, surely."

"If I remember correctly, your pies are only marginally better."

Granger smacked him in the arm, but she smiled. "My cooking has improved, thank you very much."

Draco simply rolled his eyes. He'd believe that when he tasted it.

"Harry's not the only one who's missed you, you know."

"Fine." He knew she would take his agreement as a sign that he'd missed her too, and didn't think it would hurt to let her believe that. "But don't let Weasley eat all the pudding before I get there."

~~~

It was inevitable that conversation would eventually turn to Harry. Honestly, you could only talk about France, Quidditch and politics for so long.

"He's back at Grimmauld Place," Granger said when Draco had finally found the nerve to ask. It had been an easier question than _did he move in with someone else_ , although, in hindsight, surely if there'd been someone else, Draco would have known by now.

"Why?" he asked, unable to curb his curiosity. "He hated that place."

"Still does," Weasley answered around a mouthful of apple crumble. "Did," he corrected himself, before swearing loudly and abruptly leaving the table.

Granger bit her lip, but didn't follow. "This has been hard on him," she said, almost apologetically.

"It's late. I should go." Draco started to stand but Granger grabbed his arm, gripping almost too tightly.

"Thank you."

Damn her and those genuine brown eyes. "He'll come out of this, Hermione. I promise."

She released his arm, faking a smile because she knew it wasn't a promise he could honestly make. Draco Apparated home before he tried to convince her otherwise.

Only home didn't turn out to be his room at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Fuck." He covered his face with his hands, tying to block out the image of his bed. Of _their_ bed. But it didn't work. He peeked through his fingers as if that would somehow make it easier. The bed didn't look the way he'd left it. He distinctly remembered making it before he left. Harry never made the bed. He'd always thrown the duvet off and left it strewn wherever it landed. It had been the basis for more arguments than he could remember.

He should leave, he knew he should, but he was exhausted and the mattress at the Leaky was only fractionally better than the one in Weasley's spare room and... the duvet on Harry's side of the bed was thrown back as though he'd just crawled out. As though he were taking a shower and would soon walk in with nothing but a towel wrapped around his narrow hips, his wet hair leaving a trail of drops along the hardwood floor.

Draco kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers. Harry's pillow still smelled of pomegranate and jasmine. Draco had teased him once and told him he smelled like a girl. "You like it when I spread my legs like a girl," he'd said, his grin lecherous. Draco had flipped him onto his back and fucked him with his hard cock bouncing and waving between them until he came all over his stomach. It'd been _nothing_ like fucking a girl.

~~~

He stepped over the rubble of the previous blockage and the narrow cave opened up before him like a cavern. The damp walls changed before his eyes, moss grew from cracks along the floor, and water fell in rivulets from the ceiling, but the eerie silence remained. Draco walked for what seemed like hours before the cave narrowed again and came to an abrupt stop. He placed his palm on the wall in front of him and waited.

 _The spider dangled from the thin line of webbing and twirled in a circle. Harry's high-pitched, childish laugh pierced the tiny room. He sat on the floor, his legs crossed, the top of his head nearly touching the light bulb that hung from the ceiling and bathed his face with a harsh, metallic light. A stale bread roll was perched on one knee._

 _"Would you like a bit?" he asked, breaking a crumb from the bread and placing it on his palm. He held it up to the spider and the spider scurried onto his palm like pet dog. Harry giggled as the spider's legs tickled his hand. "There's more if you want. I don't care for it much."_

 _Laughter and the clanging of forks on plates filtered in from under the door. Harry reached up to pull the string and the room went dark. He curled up under the threadbare blanket and closed his eyes. "Sleep tight, Mr Spider. Don't let the bed bugs bite."_

A surge of heat coursed through Draco's veins and the wall exploded, shattering bits of rock and dirt in all directions. Draco tried to duck out of the way, but it all happened too quickly. He touched his face and when he pulled his hand away, it was covered in blood.

He leaned against the cave wall and tried to relax, but his anger wouldn't let him. He'd never let himself lose control inside someone's mind before. He closed his eyes, letting the memory play out again in his mind. It wasn't the first time he'd wanted to hunt the Dursleys down and torture them to the point of insanity, but it was the first time he'd ever felt the loneliness in that little boy's soul. Draco had never fully understood Harry's little bouts of insecurity, his incessant and often annoying need for reassurance. Draco had always mistaken it for mistrust, because really, that had made perfect sense. How on earth was Harry supposed to trust him after everything he'd done?

Draco shook it off and kept walking. He needed to finish this. He needed Harry to wake up. He needed to see Harry's crooked smile and hear him say he was all right. The gash in his face ached, and the cuts along the fronts of his hands stung, but it was easy enough to ignore. There were three more blockages in short succession. They were getting closer and closer together, which usually meant he was closing in on the most affected area. He could feel the potion starting to wane, and just before he was ripped back to consciousness he saw a distant light.

~~~

"I'm not sure where I was, Argus. The memories were all muddled together. Sight, maybe? I can't be sure."

"You seem... shaken."

Draco stopped his pacing and sat in the plush chair facing Argus' desk. He couldn't count how many times he'd sat in that chair as a student, waiting for the day when he'd be the one behind the desk. He thought of his own office in Paris, of his large mahogany desk and the high-backed chair that sat opposite it. He'd surpassed his teacher years ago, but somehow, sitting in this chair made him feel like a student all over again.

"It's different this time. It's not just... it's personal."

"You need to keep your professional detachment. You know that. When you take that potion you're no longer Draco Malfoy, you're _Healer_ Malfoy. You've always been better at that than anyone I've known. It's part of what makes you so good at this."

Draco knew it was true, but it was easier said than done.

~~~

He wasn't sure how he'd ended up back at Granger's dining room table. Her cooking had actually improved, though, which was a pleasant surprise. Weasley had imbibed too much wine, which always had made him easier to stomach.

"When will you know if it's working?"

He'd known it was on the tip of her tongue all evening. He was amazed she'd actually made it through dinner before asking.

"We can't let him out of stasis until I find out where the spell hit. Once I get to the point of impact, I'll know how bad the damage really is. If I can repair it, we can bring him back to consciousness and see how much farther we have to go."

"Will he be...?"

"I don't know. Different parts of the brain control different things, but they're all interrelated. He might be able to see, but not interpret what he's seeing, or speak but the words might be jumbled up in his head. It's... complicated."

"You still love him, don't you?"

Draco almost dropped his fork. The woman could be entirely too direct sometimes. "That's neither here nor there."

"I want to show you something." She pushed her chair from the table and stood with her hand out. Draco just stared up at her.

"Better go with her, mate." Weasley gulped down the last of the wine and gave him a commiserating smile. "She's like a mad dog. Once she latches on to something, she won't let it go until she either kills it or beats it into submission."

"That doesn't sound like an appealing way to spend the rest of my evening."

Granger huffed and Weasley laughed. It was the first time Draco had heard him laugh since he'd been back. He rolled his eyes and stood to take Granger's hand.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

They landed in the middle of a dark and dreary room. Granger waved her wand and a small lamp flicked on, but it didn't brighten the atmosphere. If anything, it made it look even gloomier. Draco looked around for a moment before he finally recognised the place.

"What are we doing here, Granger?" His voice held a warning that he dearly hoped she would heed.

"There's something you need to see. Come on."

She tugged him from the room to the narrow, dimly lit stairs. A sense of déjà vu prickled his spine. He knew now where Harry's cave had come from. He followed her up several flights of stairs before she stopped and pushed a door open. The room was messy, as though it hadn't been tidied in months. Clothes, presumably dirty, were scattered in a jagged line from the wardrobe to the bedroom door and several towels were draped across various surfaces as though they'd been left to dry. The duvet covered only one corner of the bed, the rest pooled carelessly in the floor beside it, and the pillows were strewn haphazardly, their cases wrinkled and stained. His eyes were drawn to a book lying open on the bedside table next to a half empty glass of Firewhisky and he moved forward to pick it up. _A Wizard's Brain: Separating Fact from Fiction._ He recognized it instantly. He'd written it.

"He's read it at least a dozen times. I doubt any of it makes sense to him, but... he reads it anyway."

The sound of Draco swallowing echoed through the room. Harry had never shown any interest in his work. Draco used to come home almost bouncing with enthusiasm and Harry would look at him with blank eyes and nod with feigned interest. He eventually stopped talking about his job and Harry never asked why.

"Why are you doing this?" His words came out more as a plea than the demand he'd intended.

"Because you need to know." She moved to the large wardrobe and opened the doors, going to her knees to dig around at the bottom. She pulled out an old box and slid it across the floor to Draco's feet. "Open it."

Draco shook his head and backed away, almost unconsciously. "No."

Granger huffed and lifted the lid of the box. Draco tried not to look. These were Harry's private things. He had no right to see them, but he couldn't stop himself. The left side of the box held numerous rolls of parchment all tied with coloured string. The right side held several neatly wrapped gifts. Granger picked up one of the gifts and tossed it into the air. Draco caught it out of pure instinct.

"Look at the tag."

He didn't know why he obeyed, but he did. He unfolded the tag and read, _Happy Christmas, Draco. With all my love, Harry._

Draco moved forward to where Granger still sat on the floor, the open box in front of her. He sat on his knees across from her. She picked up another gift and handed it to him. It was wrapped in bright yellow with little snitches flittering about.

 _Happy Birthday, Draco. Love always, Harry._

There were six gifts in all. One for every birthday and Christmas since Draco had left. He lifted one of the scrolls from the box and pulled the tie. The parchment unrolled and Draco's heart fell to his stomach. The parchment was aged and crinkled, but the messy handwriting was unmistakable.

"Why didn't he send them?" he asked without realising he'd opened his mouth.

"I don't know. Maybe he was waiting for you to write first. Maybe he was afraid you wouldn't write back. Maybe he was afraid you _would_. He's always been stubborn. You know that better than anyone."

Draco read the letter, feeling a smile form slowly on his lips.

 _We finally caught Madsen. The wanker had been hiding out in Diagon the entire time._

 _There's a Ministry function this weekend and I have to wear dress robes. You know how much I hate wearing dress robes. Why do I have to attend these things anyway? It's a total waste of time._

 _How was your day? I hear the weather in Paris is shitty this time of year. Honestly, it's not much better here, so it probably doesn't matter._

 _Bloody hell, I need to go. I think I've just ruined dinner._

 _Love, Harry_

It was so much like the conversations they used to have every evening. Draco would sit in the kitchen drinking his tea and listening to Harry talk about his day and whinge about Ministry politics. Harry would cook, and nine times out of ten, he would burn dinner. Draco would eat it anyway. He hadn't really minded, although he'd teased Harry mercilessly about it.

"Why did you show me these?"

"Because when he wakes up, there's a good chance he'll pretend none of this ever existed. He'll think you only came back to save him and he won't ask you to stay, and you'll think he doesn't want you to stay so you'll leave and you'll both be heartbroken all over again because you're both too damn stubborn and too damn stupid to check your pride at the door and lay your cards on the table."

Draco stared at her for a moment before he started laughing. He didn't know exactly what caused it. It could have been the way she inhaled deeply after the long, breathless explanation, it could have been the way her face had almost turned purple from the lack of oxygen, or it could have simply been that she was so fucking right. Bloody hell, he _had_ missed her.

He rolled the parchment back up and placed it back in the box where it belonged, then stood, taking Granger's hand to pull her up along with him. "I'm going home."

"Draco, stay with us—"

"Granger." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his key ring. The golden key to his and Harry's flat glistened in the dim light. "I'm going _home,_ " he repeated.

Granger beamed, and Draco Apparated away before she had the chance to smother him in a hug.

~~~

He followed the pinprick of light until it grew into a wide opening in the cave. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the brightness and when they finally did, all he could do was stare out at the vast emptiness.

The path simply ended. He'd never seen anything like it before. He'd once encountered an unusually wide gap, very early on in his career. The patient had been a small boy who'd fallen from a fifth story window. The boy's passageway had been made of lollies and Draco had been forced to construct a bridge of liquorice. But that time there had been something to build towards. There was always _something_.

Fuck.

He sat on the edge of the ledge, considering going back the way he'd come. Maybe there was another path. Maybe he'd missed a turn. No. He knew that wasn't the case. He wondered if it were possible to build a path into emptiness and hope it found something to connect to. He would have to wait for the potion to wear off and talk to Argus. There had to be a way. He placed his palms against the ground and leaned back to look up at the empty, colourless sky, and suddenly he was bombarded by thoughts and emotions not entirely his own.

 _"Harry, don't stop. Fuck, please, don't stop."_

 _Harry felt as though he might combust at any moment. The heat of Draco's body wrapped around his cock and the look in his eyes was enough to drive him to insanity and want to stay there forever._

 _He leaned forward and Draco arched up to meet him, his fingers tangling in Harry's hair as their lips met. It felt like... God, it felt like he'd finally found where he belonged. Where nothing else mattered but Draco's skin and his breath and the longing in his eyes._

 _His orgasm ripped through him and he fell on Draco's chest with a thud. Warm arms wrapped around him and he felt something he'd never felt before. Like something in his chest was trying to burst out of his body. Maybe it was just the moment or the way Draco was looking up at him with those gorgeous, amazed eyes. Or maybe this feeling had been there all along and he'd been too afraid to acknowledge it, but he wasn't afraid anymore._

 _"I love you," he whispered against the shell of Draco's ear. The arms around him tightened and Draco pressed a kiss to his temple, a mumbled I love you, too whispered against his skin._

Draco lay in Harry's arms, unsure of what had just happened. He remembered that moment, had felt the same depth of emotion, as though his heart would burst from his chest, but this was something entirely different. It was as though he had experienced it from inside Harry's head and yet he'd also felt as though he'd relived it all over again. His mind couldn't make sense of it. His head spun and ached and it seemed the more he tried to ground himself, the worse it got, so he clung to Harry like an anchor. He couldn't understand how Harry was still there because this wasn't a memory. This was... Draco wasn't sure what it was. It was somewhere between past and present, between conscious and unconscious thought. He wanted to analyze it, but all he could think of was the way he'd felt when he'd wrapped his arms around Harry and how _Harry_ had felt, and it was all just too much to understand.

His confusion intensified as the world began to fall apart around him. The stones beneath his back rumbled and spiked out, reaching across the chasm to an expansive field of lilies that appeared where there had been only emptiness before. The stones grew and stretched until they touched the field, forming a wide stone archway. Lilies sprouted from the ground, twisting like vines around the stone, reaching into the sky to form a perfect bridge of vibrant colour. Draco knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he needed to walk across the bridge, but Harry's arms were warm wrapped around him, and Harry's breath was tickling his ear, and the sky was the exact shade of sparkling sapphires. Something urged him to move, but Draco fought it and held onto Harry as if his life depended on it. _God_ , he didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay where it was safe. He wanted to stay wherever Harry was.

~~~

When Draco opened his eyes, he wasn't lying in Harry's arms. He tried to move, but his limbs felt heavy.

"Easy, Draco. Take your time."

"What—?" He looked around the room, disoriented for a moment before he recognized the sterile walls of St Mungo's. But he wasn't sitting next to Harry's bed, as he should be. "Where am I? Where's Harry?"

"Harry's in his bed and you're... Draco, what happened in there?"

When he lifted his hands to rub his aching head, they were trembling. He didn't understand. He was just with Harry. They'd just... oh, fuck. That had been years ago. Before— "I'm not sure."

Argus pulled his chair in closer to the bed Draco was lying on and handed him a glass of water. It felt cold in his hand. He breathed in deeply through his nose and let it out slowly just as he'd learned to do in training, but he couldn't relax. His heart was hammering in his chest and he could still taste Harry on his lips. It was a memory, he reminded himself. Just a memory. Only it wasn't like any memory he'd ever experienced. He'd _been_ there. He'd felt every beat of Harry's heart, every breath he'd taken. He'd felt Harry's need, his _love_ , and he hadn't wanted to ever lose it again.

"The potion wore off and you didn't regain consciousness."

"What?"

"You were in there half an hour longer than you should have been. How is that even possible?"

Draco shook his head. It couldn't be. "It's not."

"Tell me everything," Argus insisted. Draco felt his face heat and knew he was blushing. " _Everything_ , Draco. This is important."

Draco rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and tried to think about this like a Healer. But he couldn't get the memory out of his head. Somehow he could still feel Harry in his arms. He could still smell jasmine and sweat in his nostrils.

~~~

Draco leaned back in the soft chair and tried to reconcile what had happened. His head still ached, but his hands no longer shook. Argus had tried to keep him in bed, but he'd refused. There was too much to think about. He'd explained everything the best he could, but even as he'd said it, little of it made sense.

"But you didn't build the bridge?" Argus asked for what seemed like the hundredth time. Draco looked up and glared.

"I think I'd know if I did."

"All right. Tell me about the memory again, and what occurred directly after."

"It was a shared memory, Argus. It had to be. I could feel Harry's emotions, and I could feel my own, but they were secondary. They... I don't know. It was like... like I was in two places at once. And it was... _powerful_. I've felt strong memories before, but this one was... maybe my own emotions intensified it somehow, but it felt _real_. It felt like it was happening. Even after I woke up. Even now."

"And after the memory?"

"It didn't stop when the memory ended. You know how they usually end as abruptly as they start?"

Argus nodded, silently urging Draco on.

"This one didn't end. Harry was still there when the stones erupted. I felt the pull of the potion, but... Harry was still there and I didn't want to leave him."

"Then where did the bridge come from?"

Argus kept asking the same question and Draco couldn't come up with an answer. He leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes, replaying the memory in his mind. The field of lilies had appeared, quite literally, from nowhere. It was as if—Draco opened his eyes. He was sure they were as wide as saucers. "Harry built it," he answered.

"What?"

Draco stood up and paced the room. It wasn't possible, but it was the only explanation. " _Harry_ built the bridge. His subconscious. He—" Draco turned to face Argus. He looked understandably sceptical. "I know it sounds crazy, but if anyone could do it, Harry could."

Argus rocked back in his chair and hummed. "There have been instances, well before the invention of this potion, of people waking up from a state similar to Harry's after being in a coma for years. I suppose it's possible... if the memory was as strong as you say it was, it could have ignited something in his mind, some primal survival instinct."

Draco thought about that moment. The stones and the field and the way the lilies had formed the ropes of the bridge. It made perfect sense. Harry was trying to dig himself out. He was fighting, just as Harry had always done.

"I need to go back in."

"No, you don't." Argus stood, rounding the desk quicker than a man his age should be able to. "You're in dangerous territory as it is, Draco. You _fought_ the potion in order to remain with Harry. It's too dangerous. I simply won't allow it."

Draco stood to face him and was sure he growled. "With all due respect, Healer Aonghus, you no longer have the authority to stop me."

"You may outrank me in theory, young man, but this is still my department."

"Fine. I'll have Granger make the arrangements to have him transferred to St Drogo's first thing tomorrow morning." Draco turned to sweep out of the room. He hated to do it, but he wasn't stopping now. Especially not now.

"Draco—" He turned back to see sadness in the old man's eyes. "Don't do this. I'm asking as a friend."

"Then let me go back in. As a friend, Argus. You know I won't stop."

Argus leaned heavily against his desk, looking every bit his age. "I know you won't," he said finally, sounding weary. "That's what frightens me."

"I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Draco tensed and prepared himself for an argument. "I know you're good at what you do. So good, in fact, that it's relatively easy for you, but this time—" Argus sighed as if the fight had suddenly gone out of him. "Draco, you've encountered _one_ shared memory and it was a happy one. What will you do when faced with an equally powerful unhappy memory?"

Draco knew what he was alluding to. Argus had had a front row seat to Draco's reaction to his and Harry's breakup. His mind immediately raced to the day Harry left. To the anguish and betrayal he'd felt watching Harry walk out the door. What would he do if he had to relive that memory with the addition of Harry's emotions? The mere thought of it terrified him. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid of what I might find." It was a huge admission, and he thought he detected a hint of amusement in Argus' slight smile. Draco Malfoy never admitted to being scared of anything.

"Then let me do it. I know I'm not as young as you, nor as talented, but—"

"No." Draco shook his head almost wildly. He didn't care how terrified he was. He knew the risks, and given the choice between his own sanity and Harry's, he knew which he would choose. "I appreciate your concern, Argus. Really, I do. You've... you took me under your wing when no one else would have me. You believed in me when no one else did. That means more to me than you could possibly know. But I've started this, and I have to finish it. I _have_ to."

Argus stared at him so long that Draco had to fight the urge to fidget. Finally, his shoulders slumped and Draco sensed his reluctant capitulation. "All right. But you'll do it here so I can keep an eye on you. I want monitors in place, just like when you were training."

Draco grinned. It was a small price to pay.

~~~

When Draco opened his eyes, his heart almost stopped. Harry was leaning against the entrance to the cave, his arms crossed over his chest. The crooked smile that Draco had missed so much played at his lips.

"What—?" Draco had been unsure of what to expect, but he certainly hadn't expected this. "What are you doing here?"

Harry shrugged, pushing away from the wall. "Waiting for you, I think."

Draco reached out to see if he was real. He was. His skin was warm, his body solid. Draco didn't know what to make of it. It wasn't possible.

"We're in my head aren't we? This isn't real."

"We're in your head, yes. Whether it's real or not?" Draco wasn't entirely sure how to answer that. It felt as real to him as anything he'd ever felt. "I suppose that depends on your definition of reality."

Harry looked out over the great chasm, his eyes settling on the stone bridge. "I'm not sure if I can do this, Draco."

Draco's instinct told him Harry wasn't just talking about crossing the bridge. "You can. I know you can."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're Harry fucking Potter and you don't give up on anything."

"I gave up on us."

Draco had thought those very words dozens of times over the last few years. He'd cursed Harry for it. He'd even tried to hate him for it, but he knew now more than ever that they weren't true. "No you didn't." He cupped Harry's face in his hands and forced Harry to look at him. It felt so fucking real, and Draco had to admit he might be losing it entirely, but at that moment, he didn't really care. "I saw the letters, Harry. You didn't give up, and neither did I. We just... we just got lost, that's all."

Harry's smile was perfect, just like Draco remembered.

"Is it odd that I feel just a bit like Peter Pan and you're my happy thought?"

Draco laughed. There was absolutely nothing that _wasn't_ odd about this, and he had no idea who Peter Pan was, but the mere suggestion that he could be Harry's happy thought made him smile. He gestured toward the bridge and took Harry's hand. "We have work to do."

Harry followed him across the bridge almost like a child following a parent. Draco knew he wasn't imagining the trust in his eyes.

"What do we have to do?"

"We walk until we find all the breaks and blockages in your neuronal pathways and then we fix them."

Harry stopped walking and cocked his head to one side as though he were listening for something. "I think I can take you to them."

"How?"

Harry's forehead crinkled and he looked confused. "I don't know. I just know I can."

"All right." It was a leap of faith, but they were so far out of known boundaries now that he didn't think going a bit further would hurt.

Harry pulled him closer and wrapped his arms around Draco's waist. Draco wanted to kiss him so badly it hurt.

"You'll write a book about this one day, won't you?"

Draco chuckled. "I don't think anyone would believe it if I did."

Harry grinned. "I would." And then they were moving, but it wasn't like anything Draco had experienced before. It was almost as if they were flying, but not on a broom. It was more like they were part of the wind.

They stopped in the middle of a concrete tube of some sort. Water covered Draco's feet and flowed out through a crack at the end of the tube, and for the first time since he'd been in Harry's head, he heard the sound of the running water.

"What do we do now?"

Draco knew what he should do, but his curiosity won out over his logic. "Put your hand on the wall and imagine it gone."

Harry did as he was asked, but nothing happened. Draco should have expected it. After all, he'd trained for years to be able to do this. Somehow, he was still disappointed. He laid his hand over Harry's and concentrated, forcing his magic through both of them. The wall didn't fall. It didn't crumble or morph into water and flow away. It simply disappeared. Harry turned his face towards Draco and smiled. "Wow."

Draco almost laughed. _Wow_ was quite possibly the understatement of the year. "Are there more?"

"Yeah." Harry wrapped Draco in his arms and they flew.

Draco lost count of the repairs after a while. He wasn't sure if it was the drain on his magic or Harry's constant smile that made him feel lightheaded, but when he felt the pull of the potion, he had an overwhelming urge to fight it.

"It's time for you to go, isn't it?"

Harry's lower lip was clamped between his teeth and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets. Draco now recognised the gestures for what they were. He'd never understood Harry's insecurities before, but the tiny glimpses into his past over the last few weeks had helped him to make sense of it. He took one of Harry's hands in his and lifted it to his lips, kissing each knuckle in turn.

"I'll be back tomorrow. Will you be here?"

Harry looked around as if he were considering his other options. "I think I will. There aren't many more."

"How do you know?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I just do."

Draco felt the pull of the potion and he let go of Harry's hand.

~~~

The hum of the monitors greeted him when he opened his eyes.

"Everything go all right?"

Draco turned to find Argus sitting in a chair by the door, one ankle resting on his knee. Draco didn't dare tell him what had happened. He didn't know how he would explain it if he did. There was no precedent for this. No explanation for how Harry could have manifested himself in his own mind. Perhaps it had been the potion, but Draco didn't think so. Perhaps it was just Harry. He always did have a way of being where he needed to be, regardless of whether it made sense or not.

"You can stop worrying." Draco tried to hide his smile, but he couldn't. "It was just another day at the office."

Argus smiled back, his relief evident.

"Although I am rather tired." Draco stood, stretching his arms over his head as he arched his stiff back. His stomach growled loudly. "And hungry, apparently."

Argus laughed and stood as well, resting his hand on Draco's shoulder. "Go home. I'll sit with him until his friends get here."

Draco did. He made himself dinner and sat outside on the terrace, watching the fiery red sun disappear behind the tree-covered park. When he finished dinner, he left his plate in the sink and crawled under the duvet of his unmade bed. He dreamt of narrow passageways and lily-covered fields and Harry.

~~~

"I wasn't sure you'd still be here."

Harry pulled his hands from his pockets and snaked them around Draco's waist. "Nowhere else to go, really. I think I'm sort of stuck here."

Draco didn't have to ask. Harry took them where they needed to go. He twined his fingers through Draco's and lifted them to the brick wall that blocked the long alleyway. Draco hardly had to concentrate at all before heat coursed through him and the brick melted away. He was sure it was their combined magic that made it so easy. He wasn't sure how Harry was focusing his magic, but apparently, he was a very quick study.

When the last blockage melted away, Draco stepped across the threshold into the barren wasteland where he'd started. Only it was no longer barren. The lightning was gone, replaced by a radiant sun and a crystal blue sky. A field of grass covered the cracked earth and the charred trees had buds forming with leaves that seemed to sprout before his very eyes. Birds flitted from branch to branch, their chirping filling the air with the sounds of spring.

"I suppose this is it, then," Harry said, his hands shoved back into his pockets. "Will I remember any of this when I wake up?"

Draco had no idea. "I hope so."

"If I don't... will you tell me about it?"

Draco hadn't felt the pull of the potion yet, so he sat on the ground, tugging Harry down with him. Harry leaned against him, resting his head on Draco's shoulder.

"I'll tell you everything."

"You promise?"

Draco took Harry's hand and twined their fingers together. They used to sit like this and watch that silly telly Harry had brought home. Draco found the programmes to be odd and not very enjoyable, but he'd sit and watch them anyway. Just for this.

"I promise."

He felt Harry nod against his shoulder like one would after a handshake. A light spring rain began to fall from the cloudless sky and the sun raced across as though it were in fast motion. They sat in silence for a long time before Harry lifted his head to kiss Draco gently. "I think I'd like to go home now," he whispered against Draco's lips.

Before Draco could ask what that meant, Harry faded away and the tug of the potion pulled him back to his own body.

~~~

Granger and Weasley stood next to Harry's bed as Argus waved his wand to bring Harry back to consciousness. Draco stood back in the shadows and watched. He didn't know why, but he felt Harry's friends should be the first to see him. Harry stirred, rubbing his eyes with one hand while the other immediately reached out to fumble for his glasses.

"How do you feel, Mr Potter?"

Harry sat up in bed as though he'd just started awake from a dream.

"Oh, Harry." Granger practically landed on top of him as she smothered him in a hug.

Harry's deep chuckle filled the room. "I'm fine, Hermione. What happened? Why am I at St Mungo's?"

"You were hit with a rather nasty hex," Argus answered. "You've been here for well over a month."

Harry gently pushed Hermione away and looked up at Argus. "A month?"

"You had us worried, mate." Weasley's grin looked as though it might engulf his entire face.

Harry looked from Weasley, then back to Argus, before his eyes finally settled on Granger. They looked suddenly serious and somehow sad.

"I thought—" He shook his head as though he needed to clear it. "Does Draco know I'm here?"

Draco felt an overwhelming sense of relief. Harry's tone made it clear that he wanted Draco there, whether he remembered anything of the previous week or not. He stepped out of the shadows and waited for Harry to notice.

Harry's face broke out into a broad smile. "It wasn't a dream, then." He held out his hand and Draco was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. "You were there."

Draco took Harry's hand and sat on the edge of the bed. He could feel Argus' eyes boring into him, and Weasley and Granger were likely looking at each other in confusion, but Harry was smiling at him and at that moment, nothing else mattered. "Where else would I be?"

"We have some things to talk about, don't we?"

Draco nodded, every nerve ending in his body shooting off like fireworks. "A few, yes. But first Argus has to run some tests to make sure everything is in proper working order." Harry groaned and Draco knew he was about to argue. "It's just the basics, Harry. Vision, hearing, muscle coordination. We need to make sure you're all right before he'll let you come home."

Harry's eyes brightened and all signs of complaint seemed to disappear. "Home?" he asked, his hopefulness obvious.

"Yes. Home." Draco squeezed his hand tightly. "While it seems Granger's cooking has vastly improved over the last three years, I could really do with a slightly overcooked steak right now."

Harry took in a sharp breath and clamped his lower lip between his teeth as though he were afraid of what he might say if he opened his mouth. His eyes went glassy for a moment and then he blinked and they were back to normal. He looked up at Argus, his eyes pleading. "How long before I can leave?"

Argus grinned, but gave Draco a stern look that said, _I'll expect a full explanation of this in the morning_. "Considering you'll be under Draco's supervision when you leave, I think half an hour should be enough to cover the basic tests, don't you, Healer Malfoy?"

Draco would have answered if he could, but it was difficult with Harry's lips pressed against his. He was sure this was a monumental breach of etiquette, and possibly a blatant violation of some sort of patient-Healer relationship, but Draco couldn't have cared less, because Harry's fingers were in his hair and Harry's lips were warm against his and the rest of the world could be damned, because he wasn't moving until Harry asked him to.

~~~

Draco propped himself up on his elbow and watched as Harry's eyes fluttered open. He looked up at Draco, one side of his mouth turning up to form a beautiful lopsided smile.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were obsessed with watching me sleep."

"I'm not." Draco would never tire of watching Harry in the warm glow of morning, just as he would never tire of falling asleep nestled against his side. He snaked his arm under the duvet and rested the palm of his hand on Harry's bare chest. "You're just lazy and therefore I'm forever waiting for you to wake up."

"Hey, that's unfair." He rolled onto his side, one hand beneath his head, the other resting lightly on Draco's waist. "I was never allowed to sleep in when I was a kid. It's an adult luxury I've learned to appreciate."

Draco's fingertips slid from Harry's chest to his side, moving further to rest on a sharp hipbone. "I can think of another adult luxury you've learned to appreciate."

Harry groaned, his hips tilting forward, probably without him even realising it. "I thought you had a meeting with Argus this morning to find out about your funding."

"I did." Draco scooted closer, wishing he'd fully undressed before climbing back into bed. "It lasted a total of ten minutes."

Harry's eyes widened and he covered Draco's hand to still its movements. "And? Did the Board approve it?"

"No."

"Oh." Harry's face fell. "I'm sorry. I know how much—"

"So Argus told them they could either sign the grant proposal or they could accept his resignation." He couldn't stop the smile that spread across his lips. It had been hard enough hiding it for this long. "Harry, this could be _huge_. If we can learn how to harness the power of the subconscious mind, the repercussions for healing... not just for brain injuries, but for psychiatric disorders, chronic pain... the possibilities are beyond measure."

Harry tackled Draco and kissed him. It was awkward with wide smiles on both their faces. When Harry finally pulled away, he was still beaming. "I'm proud of you. You know that, right?"

Draco chewed his lip nervously. He was excited about the prospect of what could very well be life changing research, but now that it was a real possibility, Draco felt torn. "You know this comes at a price, don't you? Long hours and weekends, and... between your new promotion with the MLE and this—"

Harry rested a single finger against Draco's lips to quiet him. "We won't lose sight of what's important, Draco. Not ever again." Harry grinned and nestled his face in the crook of Draco's neck. "Besides, if we start being stupid again, Hermione will smack our heads together until we stop."

Draco chuckled. He had no doubt that she would. "We could turn the spare bedroom into an office so I could work here, at least part of the time."

"I talked to Marcia and Donavan downstairs last week. They're thinking of buying a place in Hogsmeade before the baby comes. Maybe we could buy their flat and you could turn it into a research lab or something."

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry and held him tightly. It would take some work to make the required renovations, but it would definitely be worth it. Research was tedious and often frustrating, Draco was sure Harry wouldn't mind helping him relax when necessary. "We should go back to Paris this spring. I sort of miss it."

Harry hummed against his neck. Draco could tell he was half-asleep already. "Mm... if you want," he mumbled.

Draco tilted his head toward the window. A light snow had begun to fall. Harry's towel from the previous night's shower was draped over a chair by the window and his shoes were thrown haphazardly into one corner. Draco found he didn't really mind. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift back to sleep.

Harry would find him in his dreams.


End file.
